


Turn My Gray Sky (Blue)

by dramaticinsanity



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Demisexuality, M/M, Some Humor, Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:18:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticinsanity/pseuds/dramaticinsanity
Summary: Wong is very distracted by Stephen's... Everything. Far from oblivious to the teacher's growing feelings, Strange does his utmost to draw them out, but his methods are met with continued resistance.





	1. Where the Sky and Sea Meet

**Author's Note:**

> send me to the dark dimension immediately

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me to the dark dimension immediately.

**Vast Like the Sky**

The blue eyes were shimmering depths like an ocean all their own, and he had a vague loss of sensation. He was falling into them and getting ready to drown, but he found he did not mind at all. Then a clearing of the throat, and he snapped back.

The eyebrows above said eyes were raised slightly, accompanied by a slight quirking of the lips beneath. A cocked chin, and he knew he fucked up.

“Where did you go? Lost you there for a bit... Have you heard anything I’ve said the past few minutes?”

A few minutes? He could not grasp that he had lost himself in the man’s eyes for more than a few seconds. Something was truly out of balance with him.

“Nothing... nowhere...”

“Now we both know that’s not true, and you know it,” he responded, his smile growing wider. It was unnerving and something else entirely. Something that should neither be allowed exist, nor to fester.

“I was just... let it go...?” It came out like a question. Figured he could not control his speech well enough when it came to the infuriated man before him.

“I’d rather not.”

There seemed to be little room for argument so he replied, “I was ... thinking.”

“That’s all?” Stephen hummed thoughtfully, “About what, precisely?”

“About... about...” Then he blurted, “About you.” He fought the urge to slap a palm over his offending mouth and run out of the room.

“Can you be more specific?” Of course he would ask. The man drove him crazy, taking over his thoughts as much as he took over everything else.

“Just how... when you first came here you were really, ridiculous and so full of yourself if someone opened you up there would be more of you inside-”

“Is this going somewhere less hurtful?” He circled around Wong, who had turned away from him as he was talking. Now their eyes met again and Wong had to stay strong and not snap away, because that would not be suspicious whatsoever. 

“I admire your... tenacity and propensity for doing what you want for the good of all even if you probably know in that arrogant brain of yours that it will turn out all right because everything has to bend to your will does it not?”

Wong took a deep breath and waited, realizing that failed to come out exactly the way he wanted. Stephen was just smiling, well, strangely. He did not say a word.

“I’ve really grown to respect you and I was just thinking about how...” He was staring so intensely and still smiling in that irresistible way. “I- I think about...”

Stephen’s teeth showed as his lips parted to reveal a full grin. “Go on,” he encouraged. To anyone who walked in, he would look deranged. There were probably a million ways Wong could finish his sentence and not give away a thing about his true thoughts.

“The beautiful colors in your eyes, and how I can’t decide if they’re more like the ocean lapping at the cliffside, or the sky after a storm has recently passed,” he continued instead without taking a breath until the end. There, it was out. 

He was baffled when Stephen merely chuckled. Worried that he was thought a joke, he flicked his gaze to the floor. Then, the other man slid his hand slowly up Wong’s arm and gripped his shoulder softly.

Not another word was uttered, then the Doctor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Wong stared in the space he had once occupied, wondering if he would wake up from some strange dream. It was like he was standing on a beach, looking at where the sky touched the sea, with all the possibilities of the future floating around.

**Calm Before The Storm**

When he entered the room, it seemed to brighten. All the air was stolen away and his lungs were crushed. At least, that was close to what it felt like for Wong, as Doctor Strange graced his library the first time and every time thereafter. As sorcery came naturally to Strange, so did falling for him seem natural to the glorified librarian.

Currently, he was writing a list of possible ways to increase security measures. After all, anyone bent on making trouble could just walk in and take a book. They would be met with resistance, but there were unforeseen ways in which they could sneak.

He had stood up, pacing from one shelf to another in thought. Stephen chose that moment to quietly stride in and promptly press up against Wong's unsuspecting back. He clenched his fists and did not jump from the surprise. The warm voice was right in his ear.

“Trouble is brewing,” he intoned, barely above a whisper for whatever reason. “I can almost smell it.” At this, he took a strong whiff by pressing his nose against Wong’s scalp.

“You however, smell of fresh rain. New soap?”

“Yes,” he said simply and tried not to sound strained.

“Hmm, I always did enjoy a good rain. Of course it is tainted with bad memories now since it was raining when my accident happened. But maybe it won’t be anymore,” Stephen finished with a distant tone.

With that, he sat down and buried himself in a book. Once again, it left Wong off balance. He resumed pacing and thinking about security. Well, he attempted to think about security but all he could think about was the scent of blueberries that had wafted off Stephen as he stood close and the warmth of his body.

Not at all good for a celibate man’s libido. He had never really felt so drawn to someone before now to break his celibacy, but Stephen himself once said there was a first time for everything. That was during one of his numerous attempts to make him laugh. Despite succeeding once, he never stopped trying to succeed again.

Wong could not really deny him that. He wondered if he could deny him anything ever again. No, he would have to be strong. Sometimes a man like Stephen needed someone to deny him things. He was certain it was a job no one would begrudge him.

“What are you doing? I have asked three times. Are you losing your hearing? I’m really beginning to get worried-”

“Nothing to worry about, just lost in thought. About security of course, for the books. Not about you. Again. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” The smug tone was not appreciated. He made that clear to Stephen with the sharp look he gave him. The man refused to look chastised and instead folded his hands behind his head and smiled.

“You smell nice too,” And damnit if he could not stop blurting out things he did not want to say! He shook his head. “Forget that I-”

“Thanks. Must you pace?”

“It helps me think,” Wong replied tersely.

“About how I smell apparently,” Stephen shot back. He was like a dog with a bone, honestly.

“Also how I have a hard time denying you anything! But I should now, stop teasing-”

“Teasing? I’m pointing out what you yourself admitted to me,” Stephen insisted. At this, he had stood up and leaned close to Wong, voice just above a whisper again.

“You don’t need to whisper,” he growled.

“But you like it.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“You know what,” Wong managed not to entirely shout, “You are twisting my feelings back on me and enjoying how in control it undoubtedly makes you feel in your mess of a life!”

And okay, it was very unlike him to get worked up. But that is what effect Doctor Strange, as he preferred to be called, tended to have on calm, rational people. He made them a bundle of uncontrolled nerves.

“Your feel-” Stephen stopped, actually sounding sheepish. He huffed a breath out of his nose and shifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the one so apparently besotted. He had not known how far it went, if it was a simple fascination or something else entirely. Now, he had his answer. He did feel bad about it.

“Would you deny me a neck massage?” He said softly, “It’s fiercely sore from reading.”

**Eye of the Hurricane**

Stephen had fallen asleep. After giving him a thankfully short neck massage, Wong had continued writing and thinking, decidedly not about the man sitting across from him. So absorbed in not thinking about Stephen that he became, he did not notice the man slowly nodding off.

He was probably still reading while he slept, but it was a mystery to Wong why he did not just go to his bedroom. Perhaps it was a gesture of trust, although what he could or would possibly do was lost on him. Even knowing the other man could probably see him, he stretched his hand and ran it through his soft locks. The smell of berries hit his nose and he sighed. He gave his shoulder a gentle shake at first, and then a second more insistent one.

“Stephen?”

No response. Well, he would have more than neck pain if he was left here. He was sore at the idea of waking him, regardless if he was really sleeping or only his body. His body was important too, and it should be treated well.

He put his left hand on Stephen’s chest and tipped him back so that his shoulders rested on his right arm. He then reached down to slide his left arm under his legs. He knew there was a more practical way to take him to his room, but he enjoyed the pseudo intimacy of the moment.

Wong tried not to think about the man’s astral projection watching him, likely smiling with smug amusement. He had not exactly apologized for his teasing nor had Wong expressed any guilt for telling him off. It was thus far unspoken, but he was not sure if it should remain that way or not.

He felt suddenly and unexpectedly exhausted after setting Stephen’s body down on his bed, so he sat down as far on the edge as possible. Wong watched his sleeping form for a time. How much the man had come to mean to him in such a short amount of time could not be calculated. If he was only to protect and serve, then so be it, he would be a bodyguard, mentor and reluctant butler. He did not notice he said those thoughts out loud.

Stephen blinked at him and mumbled, “You’re so much more to me than that. An ally, a friend and maybe-” He dozed off before completing the sentence. Wong did not want to hope about what he might have said, then, in his sleep addled state.

Before long, Wong drifted away, and his body gave in to the gentle wave of tiredness that washed over him.

He awoke with a start, the smell of berries and musk all up in his nasal passages. He huffed and got a mouthful of hair. Pulling back, he realized it was Doctor Strange’s hair. Not good. He examined the situation quickly.

His arm was across Stephen’s chest, and his face had likely just been nestled in the man’s hair. A hand was wrapped around his arm, the other rested against the back of his neck. Their legs were tangled together, and if it was not for their clothes, someone would have thought they had just been intimate. If only that were true. But no, he had somehow managed to fall asleep on the man. Barely over a year it’s been since Kaecilius and the dark dimension, yet he had avoided any precarious situations until now.

On top of everything, he had a hard on. He shifted slightly and Stephen mumbled in his sleep. Wong’s chances of getting out of this unscathed were low. He decided to accept his fate and detangled their limbs.

At the exact moment he was almost free, Stephen grabbed his waist and pushed him down, appearing to dreamily snuggle into Wong’s chest. He groaned at the pressure to his nether regions, which, big mistake, because of course Stephen’s eyes snapped open and gazed directly at Wong’s reddened face.

“Oh, sorry. Why are you...” Stephen grumbled sleepily, taking stock of the situation. He hummed and rolled his hips. Not expecting that reaction at all, Wong gasped. He squirmed in a mad attempt to roll off the bed and bolt for the door, which he would have managed in a more ideal world.

“Is that for me? How flattering.”

Wong was not going down this road. He remained as calm as possible and stated, “I need you to get off me.”

“I think I know what you need, and what you want too,” Stephen replied, voice still attractively low from sleepiness, “You might want to rephrase that to _get me off_ and I would be happy to assist.”

Now there was a thought, Stephen serving him. Nothing like that had ever occurred to him in his brief fantasies, ones that he was always quick to squelch. The image was firmly in his head now though, and he could not get rid of it.

Apparently, not anymore that one could get rid of that sexy self assured smile on Stephen’s face. He neither moved or responded. So, body moving like a lithe cat, he maneuvered down the bed, his lips hovering enticingly over Wong’s crotch. He held his breath.

Only to let it out in a loud _whoosh_ when Stephen pressed his open mouth to the area and sucked. Crying out, Wong hooked his foot in a startled Stephen’s arm pit and flipped him over across the bed, before rolling and landing his feet. He bolted out the door, ignoring the man’s shouts after him.

The game here was not clear, but Wong was very sure he did not want to play along. It just was not confirmed if Doctor Strange took his feelings seriously, or if he just wanted a dalliance and then would expect to be good friends as though nothing had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what would the portmanteau of this even be idk
> 
> Also, I posted this on fanfiction.net under the same name. Please share your thoughts if you can, or throw me into the dark dimension it's cool.


	2. Deep as an Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wong would always gladly bail Stephen out of trouble, though he often wished to be freed from the stress of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here it is, at last. My muse decided to take a break from its winter hibernation.

**Tornado Warning**

For three weeks following the _incident_ , the pair danced around each other. They only exchanged brief, necessary words. At first, Wong thought he had finally realized his error and backed off. Despite the initial relief, he was beginning to doubt himself.

He missed Stephen. He could not, for much longer, stand the guilty glances he received from the man. He felt like he was causing the man's misery, even though some part wanted him to suffer. He was the one in the wrong.

Wong paced the floor relentlessly. He stopped and stared desperately up at the high ceiling as though it might hold all the answers. It gave away nothing. He shook his head and felt like he very much needed to lay on the ground outside somewhere, and stare at the sky. At least, until everything made sense again.

With no other option, he plopped down at the desk and watched the words on the page swim in front of him. This was not going to work. He pulled out his personal journal and flipped to a blank page. He did not dare glance at the previous ones, filled with yearning and odes to a certain doctor. He doodled random scenery. Somehow that scenery became Stephen's face. He gave it an evil mustache, curled upward at the ends, out of spite.

Unfortunately, it only complimented his attractive lines. He snapped the journal closed and chucked it across the room. It hit the wall and landed on the floor simply. He stared at it, his mind blank and face hot. Almost as Hot as someone else's face.

As an afterthought he grabbed the pencil and chucked it across the room too. It made an angry pinging noise. He sat back down and flicked the head of the drinking bird, a little silly trinket Strange had put on his desk one day with no explanation, only “it reminded me of you.” He still had not figured out if that was an insult, a compliment, or neither.

Resigned to his fate, he decided he would probably waste away, watching the fake bird fake-drink for all of eternity. He supposed it was better than being stabbed and blown to pieces a million times. He almost wished that would happen to him now.

When Wong heard light footsteps into the library, they sounded abnormal. However, he was too distracted to notice, and he could not have thought of anyone else that might enter the place. After a while of weighted silence, he finally felt like something was off, and he slowly looked up.

It was a woman.

He blinked twice. She was still there.

She wore a tight dress, all green, with vambraces of some sort and boots. Her long yellow hair cascaded in waves. He raised an eyebrow.

“What can I help you with... Miss?”

Goodness, he sounded like a sales clerk. He was not a sales clerk. He was not a butler! What he would give for Stephen to come in here and senselessly order him around like he was on payroll. He nearly dropped his head on the desk but remembered his company at the last second and jerked back.

She did not move or speak, only tipped her head and smiled.

From over her shoulder, he saw Doctor Strange stride carefully into the library. He did not meet Wong's eyes and winced. Meanwhile, Wong sighed and went to try and address the woman again.

“Who is this?” Stephen got there first. The woman turned toward him slowly, still smiling. It was beginning to become unnerving.

She pressed her hands against his sides. They were delicate looking and had long fingers. Without lifting them, she moved them up his body until they reached his shoulders. Wong clenched his fists under the table as she leaned and whispered in his ear.

Suddenly Strange smiled and his eyes locked with woman’s gaze. Not sparing his friend a glance, they walked to the former Ancient One’s collection. A sensation of warning went up Wong’s spine, and he eyed the nearest weapon, which leaned against his desk.

They were whispering still as Stephen leafed through the book he had taken down. Wong did not understand all the need for mystery. He indicated a page in particular and handed it over to her. Wong balked at that and stood up so fast it knocked the chair down. He raced around his desk and tugged the book away.

Amora made an irritated noise and crossed her arms delicately. She looked angrily at Stephen, and he shrugged, aiming a questioning look at Wong who was already mirroring that expression.

“Stephen, what is going on?”

He wanted to ask what the secrecy was about, but something stopped him. Stephen did not answer right away so Wong continued, “She- you cannot just give people- what were you thinking?!”

If he was thinking _at all_.

“Amora here has indicated something interesting to me. Shall we go at once?” The blonde woman nodded, and Wong’s attention was all at once drawn to the hand she had petting Strange’s hair. He took a deep breath to steady himself, unnoticed by either.

There was no possible way he had become enamored with an absolute stranger. He was simply indulging her flirtations for whatever reason.

That thought kept him calmer, anyway.

**Downpour**

They had suddenly disappeared. After a lot of fretting, Wong forced himself to think calmly. He devoured some texts, gathered some artifacts, and between a lot of sweating and seriously contemplating taking up swearing as a stress relief technique, he finally tracked down his wayward friend.

That incorrigible man had gotten himself into some kind of trouble. As he entered the scene, he quickly noticed a stand off was occurring. There was a girl whose appearance caused the first word to come to mind to be witch despite his ‘career’ choice, and the other looked like a half robot half man.

He wanted to rub his eyes to make sure they were not deceiving him. And one saw a lot of strange things in his line of work, including one particular Strange. He coughed loudly but they paid him no attention. From the broken furniture, there had apparently been a fight.

Now, some kind of stalemate was happening. The woman, Amora, had somehow detained witch girl, who was, it seemed, causing things to randomly explode. Their magic was at war. Wong felt like his head might explode from the amount of wild magic being used. He knew of people naturally gifted or long learnt, like Loki, for example. He would honestly love to be able to have a conversation about magic with that guy, however impossible or improbable, it was a long time dream of his. 

This however, seemed on another level, and he was uncertain if all of it was natural. The magic the girl in crimson was using felt wrong, off somehow.

It made his eyes water. Amora looked a madwoman, a wide grin stretched across her face. Her eyes were as wild as crimson-witch-girl's magic.

“Please, let go of Wanda,” said the robot-man, “We can be civilized about this.”

“Vision-” Wanda choked. There was still solid determination in her tone and gaze. She was far from giving up. Wong could admire it.

Alright so, he knew their names now. He crept up to Stephen, whose eyes were bizarrely empty. It sent a shiver down his spine once more, the less pleasant kind. He pulled sharply on Stephen’s earlobe, and the man thankfully turned to him. However, his face was still utterly and disturbingly blank. So, he did not appear to be faking it, that was a problem.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Wong demanded. He grabbed Stephen’s shoulders and shook slightly, but knowing it would not work.

“Wong! My friend, it is for the greater good. Surely you can understand my position,” Stephen’s voice dropped to a murmur, and his eyes roamed the woman, Amora’s, body down and back to the top.

It took every ounce of his self control not to slap the man until sense returned. He growled lowly and shook his head. Meanwhile, Amora and Vision argued back and forth, they sounded oddly unflustered but their voices were weighted. They remained oblivious to the exchange between the two men.

“What possible benefit could this have? She seems half insane!” He whisper-shouted, slapping the back of his hand repeatedly in his palm as he spoke. Stephen smiled and rocked slightly side to side. Then he sighed airily, “I must do what my Lady bids. She is right in all things, she sees the truth.”

Wong ground his teeth. This could not be happening. There was definitely some kind of spell on him. He stared at his shoes, mind racing. He grasped at the deep parts of his memory trying to think of a way to break this spell.

Obviously, he could not make a potion to counteract it, and he was not gifted with the type of magic to battle whatever hypnosis he was under. He tried a few phrases, but Stephen did not respond. From what he could tell, based on the argument nearby, Doctor Strange had tried to “confiscate” this so called Vision as a Misused Artifact of Extreme Power.

Wong did a double take and he felt like an absolute dolt not to have noticed the shining INFINITY STONE in the middle of its head. Still, he seemed for all intents and purposes like a thinking, feeling being. One could not just grab him up and drag him away. Especially with crimson witch- no, Wanda, protecting him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

He stomped over to the counter. He grabbed the Keurig sitting there, a dead thing unaware of the chaos taking place before it. He hauled it up with all his might. He strolled over to Stephen like it weighed nothing.

The sorcerer had went back to keeping his spell up to suppress Vision’s abilities. It was apparent he would soon break through, then Stephen and his little lady friend would be in even more trouble. He was not about to let that happen.

“You mad human, what is your plan with that primitive object?” Her terminology was so unexpected, but he ignored it. He did not look at her or respond, he was on a mission. He knew only one sure technique to break through mind control. He had read it somewhere, in a recount of the battle in New York.

He called Stephen’s name, proceeding to taunt him.

“Over here, you witless ninny! Pay attention to me you selfish jerk!” Strange snarled and lunged at him, as Vision broke the spell and blew Amora through the wall, while she was distracted. She had gaped at Wong’s taunts, doubtlessly wondering why he was so off his hinges.

Without fanfare, he grasped the Keurig on its sides. He swung the thing mightily and smacked his confusing and amazing friend square in the temple, knocking him to the ground. He lay sprawled out for several moments, limbs in all directions, breathing heavily.

Vision threw a thankful look over his shoulder. Wong nodded before turning his attentions urgently. He could hear Amora screeching in the background as he apprehended her. Wanda stood nearby and approached the two men slowly, holding her arm. Sparing her a glance, he could tell she would need some serious healing.

He gently pressed his hand to Stephen’s shoulder. He immediately reacted and shook it off. He sat up and groaned dramatically, clutching his head. When he saw Wong, his eyes immediately filled with gratefulness touched by sorrow and Wong’s stomach clenched.

**Crashing Waves**

“Why were you trying to, what, arrest Vision? Whose ridiculous- no wait don’t tell me, it was Amora’s idea wasn’t it?”

Stephen gave him a deadpan look. It seemed eerily familiar. With a jolt Wong realized the man was imitating him, and he could not help but let out a huffed little laugh. He pressed his thumbs against his eyes.

“It was partially mine actually. She mentioned hearing about the incident in Sokovia and accounts about the man with the yellow gem in his forehead. I thought the book might have an answer, and we figured out what the gem is.”

“Unbelievable,” Wong muttered. He could forgive the man though, because he was not exactly in control of his actions.

He pushed on Stephen’s shoulder, but he groaned and tried to bat at him with one hand. He was holding an ice pack to his forehead. There were probably faster ways to heal, the man just insisted on being endearingly annoying with his constant dramatics. That man was also sitting in his chair, reading his book. He crossed his arms.

They stared at each other. The air grew thick. Wong dragged a hand down his face and in that moment, had made up his mind.

He was not going to run anymore. He was going to dive, head on, off the cliff into the foamy ocean below. He took a deep breath to prepare.

“I know a way to make you feel better, drama queen,” he insisted softly. He jerked the ice pack out of Stephen’s grip and set it down. He could tell that the other was trying to read his thoughts through his eyes. With eyes that blue, he knew he could waste no more time not plunging in.

“What’s that?” Stephen inquired innocently. He licked his lips and cocked his head a bit. There was no pretense, just honest curiosity. Wong leaned close as if to whisper in the man’s ear. That is not what he did, at all.

Making a turn at the last second, he captured Stephen’s lips with his own, as though capturing a butterfly with the greatest amount of care.

The butterfly tensed but then settled into the net. Funny, how the tables had turned. The ocean he had thrown himself into was unexpectedly warm and soft, and it filled him with an each of the sensation in his entire body. It started in his stomach and wriggled into his limbs. It throbbed in his heart.

Then it throbbed in his groin, when Stephen slipped his tongue in, like waves lapping at the shore. An incredible serenity overtakes him, like a there’s a clear blue sky stretched above following a week of endless storms and grayness.

He pulled away and their eyes met like a lightning bolt striking the ground. The clouds seemed to part before them and sunlight flooded in, a rainbow stretching in the space between land and sky where a cleansing light rain washes away all the bad.

They’re going to have to talk about it at some point, but for now they can just enjoy the moment. This time, Stephen pressed his hands to either side of Wong’s head and crashed their mouths together.

The embracing pair manage to stumble their way to Wong’s bedroom, leaving clothing articles strewn all across the floor in their wake. He would spare a thought later to sincerely hope he would not be expected to clean that up.

Stephen pushed him into the room and slipped in like a cobra. He reached behind him to pushed the door closed, his slightly shaking hand moving elegantly as he used only his fingertips. He grinned almost maniacally and peels off Wong’s undershirt, flinging it to the side. They are both completely, wonderfully naked.

He remembered his jealousy from earlier. He grabbed the other’s shoulders and pushed him against the door.

He slid his hands along Stephen’s sides to feel each of his ribs. He mentally counts his progress and thumbs find nipples, ghosting across them. Stephen sighed and pressed their foreheads together briefly. A swift kiss and Stephen’s hands were the ones traveling, even as Wong dipped his head to lap at a nipple.

Stephen threw his head back with a _thunk_ against the wood and squeezed Wong’s ass. Contemplating his next move, he failed to realize the other preparing to strike. Dazed, Wong found their positions suddenly switched. Stephen’s eyes were dark, the pupils fully blown. They moved downward and his skin felt hot as if the man had the power to burn his skin with his gaze.

He knew what was about to happen, but a thousand times could not make him fully prepared. Stephen dropped to his knees and took Wong in his mouth, not even bothering to tease with his hands.

He wondered if it was even possible to feel this good or if it were an intense hallucination. That tongue swirled around the tip and pressed and undulated against his shaft in all the best ways. He clenched his eyes closed so tightly bizarre colors danced in his darkened vision. Then, he dared to look down and struggled not to come at the sight.

His swollen shaft was the perfect fit for that smart mouth, as though it were made to be there. Then Stephen took all of him, and the floor dropped away.

His spine bent inward, and he shouted into the palm of his hand as he came. The only thought that remained was Everything was just wonderfully perfect. If he was hallucinating, he never wanted it to end. He would happily be trapped in a dream forever, if the dream was as great as this. In reality, no dream could possibly compare.

He gripped Stephen’s very dark clump of hair and gently hauled him upward. He went willingly, so he barely had to put anything into the tug. They kissed messily and he sighed helplessly at the taste of his own spent seed in his partner’s wicked, perfect mouth. How had he denied himself this for so long?

Oh, right.

“Do you- we should,” Wong stuttered, then snapped his mouth closed. He should not ruin this peace, he could not ruin it.

Stephen sighed lightly and cupped the back of Wong’s head. His thumb smoothed over his ear. He leaned in and attacked the area with lips and tongue. He kissed along Wong’s cheek and their lips met in their aggressive, yet tender dance.

Pulling away sharply, Stephen considered his word choice for a moment, while Wong considered the obvious feeling of the man’s arousal against his thigh. He pressed his knee into it and rubbed.

Stephen moaned then bit down gently on his tongue and spoke, “I would, could not be doing this- if my feelings for you weren’t very deep.”

Wong opened his mouth to protest, and Stephen silenced him with a look.

“One night stands I’ve done yes. But when I’m close to someone... it’s different. I would either share my heart and have yours in turn... or nothing at all.”

He wanted it to be as simple as Stephen made it sound. He felt the same way, though he had never been with anyone before. Anyone he had become close to in the past, it was platonic or painfully unrequited.

He was so relieved in ways he could scarcely express that he was not just an empty prospect of a meaningless fuck to this man, this man he would pull down the sky and burn the world for, if anyone ever hurt him.

Maybe he had a dark side. It only seemed to try and express itself when Wong was in love. He was in love. He was “In love, with you.” It tumbled out of his mouth, just like that. Stephen chuckled and wrapped his arms around the man. Wong realized the absurdness of it all, how they were completely naked and _talking_.

Well, it was probably absurd to most people. For them it was just in a day’s work. Stephen pressed his nose against Wong’s ear and murmured huskily, “In love with you too, you fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >///<
> 
> No coffee makers were harmed in the making of this chapter. I cannot however, promise that Keurigs will in fact assist with cognitive recalibrition, if your friends, y'know get mind controlled. As I've never actually tried to hold or move one.  
> Sidenote: Title of the whole fic is based on a lyric from Magnetic Fields-You You You You You
> 
> Tell me what you think, if you can, please, thanks yada yada


End file.
